


Home And Needing A Hug

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Morality, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Not Beta Read, Prison, Realistic Minecraft, Stress Relief, Touch-Starved, We die like Mexican Dream, idk i'm a bit of a dream apologist, so it's not critical of c!dream at ALL, takes place in canon DreamSMP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Why…” Dream began quietly, tears now flowing down his cheeks in massive amounts.George interrupted, not wanting to get into the scary stuff yet, “I thought it might be nice to have a comfort item, cause this place is so horrifying from the outside, and inside, I just thought you’d enjoy having something to remind you of home.”"Home," it was clear, meant in this instance George. Something to remind Dream of George.Techno had taunted Dream about not having a house, but once he is placed in the prison, George's visit finally defines to him what home is.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 461
Collections: Anonymous





	Home And Needing A Hug

**Author's Note:**

> This is so self-indulgent, I absolutely speedran this fic after seeing the inside of the prison and hearing how small Dream was :(((( Idk dnf fluff to make you feel better I hope, cause I know the finale completely tore me up when I saw it.
> 
> Small edit: forgot to say the reason I tagged Canon Divergence is because I definitely don't think that c!Dream would act this way, he probably will fare fine in the prison/continue to be manipulative to Tommy, but even still I had to write him being kinda soft just cause I was sad,,, So yeah, not really meant to be read as a canon take on c!Dream :)
> 
> Mild content warning: crying and anxiety, not graphic

“You don’t have a house, do you?”

Dream’s smirk dropped from behind his mask momentarily. He glared at the pig man who stood two steps up at the entrance to the cottage. The smile on the other’s face grew.

“Of course I have a house!” Dream said, stumbling over his words and losing the same gusto with which he had said them before.

Technoblade laughed loudly, throwing his axe behind his shoulder and placing his other hand against the wall of the house to sturdy himself. “You don’t! You’re homeless! The most powerful guy on the server and you don’t even have a house!”

Dream’s mind was racing. He wasn’t smiling any longer, and he turned away from the other man. “I do! I do have a house!”

_ Did he? _

“My house is just… Far away from here! You wouldn’t know!”

Techno guffawed at the suggestion. Suddenly, the warmth of the cottage in the snow was making Dream’s bones chill. The weather hadn’t seemed so cold before.

“‘My house, it goes to another school!’” Techno mocked. “Oh, go away, you don’t even have a house, stop lurking at mine.”

In Dream’s mind, he thought of Phil and Techno, living in this peaceful retreat together. Even Tommy joining them seemed peaceful. He knew where he needed to go, the same path he always seemed to walk whenever he felt this same empty way.

Snow began falling harder as Dream disappeared away from Technoblade’s cottage.

-

Through the now-rain, Dream could see only five feet in front of him at any time on the illuminated spruce pathway. He could tell he had gotten close by the sound of running water that accompanied the familiar location that made his heart warm.

“Dream?” a voice called out as Dream took a step on the shaky bridge. Seeing it not cave in under his weight, he placed his other foot onto it and began walking at a faster pace towards the house that was buried within the mountainside.

It looked worse for wear. After Tommy and Ranboo’s ambush, it had never been fully restored, and numerous other battles had taken place resulting in charred wood instead of an awning, and the bright mushroom red being faded off the walls.

George was stood at the doorway, concern written clearly over his features.

Dream let out a shaky exhale, breathing, “Hi” before collapsing into George’s arms. The smaller man made a small  _ umph!  _ sound at Dream’s weight, combined with the netherite gear but wrapped his arms securely around the blonde nonetheless.

“Is something wrong?” George prodded, separating himself from the rain-dampened hug and grasping around Dream’s arms and neck to see if anything was noticeably wrong on his person. “Is there another war?”

Dream shook his head, shirking off his helmet and shield onto the ground outside of the house unceremoniously before following George inside. Then, after making sure to close the spruce door tightly and fasten the shutters, George approached Dream with soft, caring eyes, and unlatched the ceramic mask that had been constraining the other. Once Dream’s bright green eyes met George’s miscolored ones, both men seemed to physically relax. George was the only person Dream was comfortable with seeing his face ever, and it had become a habit for whenever George and he were alone, George could remove the mask.

His eyes went to the floor between them. George was fiddling with Dream’s chest plate, presumably trying to get it off the bigger man because of how waterlogged the rain had made it, but Dream just sat still for a few seconds.

Images of Techno and Tommy flashed through his mind. Tommy had just escaped exile, and Dream wasn’t  _ stupid _ , he knew that Tommy was living with Techno. It was all a part of the long-con, he knew, that he still held complete power over Tommy through his possession of one of the discs through Skeppy. But, suddenly, reality had caught sorely up to him and the horrific face of Tommy at Logstedshire was beginning to haunt his waking thoughts and carry with him wherever he went.

“Dream.” George was staring at him. Dream squinted, feeling his eyes become heavy and his nose sting with tears that threatened to fall.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking away from George in hopes that he would be able to vanish out of sight, and George would never remember his presence.

Of course, George wasn’t that way. George would be with Dream through anything. That was just the way it was. Smaller, tender hands began to work more firmly on the chest plate that Dream still donned. It slipped off of him finally after he slackened his arms. A few tears began to fall.

George leaned forward and kissed at Dream’s cheek that was facing him, stopping the tear trails from cascading further down his cheek. George cooed, “Let me get your armor off, okay? And then you’ll feel better.”

A choked sob escaped Dream’s throat. The tenderness was undeserved, he knew that much, but he still felt a stirring of warmth within him that made him completely submissive in George’s hold. The older slipped off the netherite leg guards and boots easily, leaving Dream in his regular green under armor clothing. 

Even his clothes were soaked from the rain, however, and after  _ tsk _ ing a few times, George mined away a piece of cobblestone in his wall to reveal a chest. Within the chest, he rifled around before pulling out the clothes that Dream had left behind when George first built the mushroom home, in case he ever got stuck there and needed supplies. 

“Here, let me take care of you, Dream,” George offered, his eyes full of sincerity and hurt. Dream was putty in his hands, his entire being becoming malleable to George’s touch as he internalized the hurt and pain it must have caused George to see Dream in such a state. In some way, Dream feared he was thrusting himself into business that wasn’t his, disturbing the intentionally quiet and removed life that George had built so far away from L’Manberg and the rest of the server’s issues.

But then, George removed Dream’s shirt, revealing the scarred, pale chest of the other, and Dream couldn’t think about anything else anymore. 

George pressed a few chaste kisses to each new battle wound that donned Dream’s body since the last time he had seen him like this, with full vulnerability. George removed Dream’s soaked pants as well, without any hint of suggestiveness or desire to go further. Now was not the time, they both silently acknowledged, now was about healing and comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?” George asked in a whisper while he was pulling up the waistband of the new, dry clothing he was dressing Dream in. Dream quietly acknowledged the blue hue of these clothes.

“Not really,” Dream admitted back, taking a deep breath as he stretched out his arms that were sore and tense all the way up through his muscles so that George could put on the soft cotton t-shirt he had for Dream. “I’m a terrible person.”

George blew out a shaky breath. Once he’d properly adjusted the hem of the shirt, his hands lingered right at Dream’s waist, not making eye contact. “I don’t think that’s true at all.”

Dream scoffed. “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

George’s head made its way to Dream’s collarbone, and they sat like that on the unfinished stone floor of the mushroom house for a long time. George finally mustered the courage to speak, in a small whisper that was barely audible, “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, I know you, and I know you enough to know that I love you, Dream. And… Everyone needs someone in their court who loves them, you know?”

Hot tears reappeared in Dream’s eyes at George’s words. Whether or not it was true he didn’t care, Dream was sleepy enough to let the warm words wrap around him like a veil of affection and bask in them for as long as he would be able to.

Dream pressed his nose into George’s soft brown hair and closed his eyes.

-

The lava wall slowly descended, revealing the large, obsidian room. It was massive, 20 blocks out from every side, and the ceiling rose up 15 blocks that had previously been submerged completely in lava.

“I need you to listen carefully,” Sam began. “When I flip this lever, there will be a bridge, that takes you over to the cell, but you have to move with it. Then, I’ll close you back in with lava and unblock the room so that you two can speak. Whenever you’re done, just call for me and I’ll be there.”

The lava fully sunk down, revealing the entryway and a clear view of the prisoner sitting in the cell that was in the dead center of the room.

“Do you understand?” Sam asked again, standing by the switch.

George drew in a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he said shortly, anxiety pricking at his words and thoughts.

The bridge appeared beneath George, and following Sam’s instructions, he moved along with the bridge quietly until it reached the cell in the center of the room. There, he got a clearer look at the masked man inside.

“Okay, I’m putting the lava back down. Let me know when you’re finished!” Sam called from the platform. George nodded disinterestedly at him. His eyes were fixed on Dream.

The younger’s head was down and he was facing the lectern placed in the corner of the small cell. His hair seemed disheveled and he had multiple bandages wrapped around his frame from the battle that had taken place three days prior.

“Dream…” George began softly, once the netherite blocks between the two went down and he was able to approach him slowly. 

“George,” Dream replied, his voice broken and quiet. “George,  _ fuck _ , I missed you, I fucked up.”

Dream turned around slowly and revealed the mask that was still on his face, but that had a distinct axe wound down the center. George’s heart ached, imagining vividly in his mind how weak Dream had to have been for his mask,  _ the one thing _ he cared about on himself, to have been damaged.

And hell, if George had planned on having any hostility towards the blonde, and to criticize him on the shit that Sapnap had been talking about him doing before George arrived, it all died on his tongue. He couldn’t feel anything towards the other besides remorse, and a deep-seated feeling of failure that he hadn’t been there for Dream enough, or told him that he appreciated him enough times over to prevent this.

“Oh, Dream,” George finally said, unable to produce anything but the other’s name, and he reached forward and captured Dream in a tight hug, dragging the other down slightly to be at the same level as George while standing. It was no issue, as it usually had been, because Dream slumped into the brunette instantly, his entire weight collapsing from the feeling of touch and affection on his tired body. George quickly and instinctively undid the strap of the ceramic mask and rested it on the lectern while Dream buried his head further into George.

Dream poked at George’s chest, where he was wearing his usual blue t-shirt. “What’s this?” Dream asked meekly, sounding more like a child than the usual loud, big-headed Dream.

“Oh!” George looked down, remembering what he had done before entering the prison, “Here, Sam’ll probably confiscate it once we’re done, but I thought it was worth a try to bring it in for you, and it slipped by him. Or, he didn’t care, I’m not sure.”

From beneath his t-shirt, George produced a small fleece blanket that he had kept folded up and hidden during his inspection. He was nearly sure Sam knew about it and was either considering it too benign or too personal to confiscate.

It was so,  _ so  _ worth it when George saw Dream’s face light up at the gift. The blanket was small, only really wide enough to wrap around Dream’s broad shoulders, and was baby blue with a repeating mushroom pattern on it. Dream’s eyes were glossy, staring at the soft object between his hands like it was something precious and valuable. George’s heart ached for a time where they would be in his mushroom house again, curled under the much larger quilt with the same pattern. 

“Why…” Dream began quietly, tears now flowing down his cheeks in massive amounts.

George interrupted, not wanting to get into the scary stuff yet, “I thought it might be nice to have a comfort item, cause this place is so horrifying from the outside, and inside, I just thought you’d enjoy having something to remind you of home.”

_ Home, _ it was clear, meant in this instance George. Something to remind Dream of George.

Dream cried harder, his breathing becoming loud and heavy in the small cell. Like a small child, he brought the fleece up to his face and simply held it against his cheek. “Why are you still being nice to me?” Dream asked. “You know what I did, don’t you?”

George shut his eyes. “I do,” he began quietly.

“Then why!?” Dream cried out, breaking the tense atmosphere with his yell. “Why are you still doing this to me? I don’t deserve it! I deserve the prison, and the obsidian walls, and the pain--I deserve  _ everything _ !”

With his outburst, Dream crumpled to his knees, sitting on his butt pathetically while his legs were pigeoned beside him. His back slouched as he wept quietly into the soft blanket, leaving George standing over him, blocking him from the view of the flowing lava entryway.

George knelt beside him, taking Dream’s face into his own hands and making direct eye contact. The redness of his face only enhanced the emerald green of his eyes in the glowstone light. “ _ Because _ , Dream,” George started, feeling a renewed confidence in himself. “Someone who was truly awful, truly terrible, they wouldn’t think they deserve this. They wouldn’t cry over kindness or accept a little blanket… Dream, you’re not evil. You’re a person, and you deserve love from at least someone, just like anyone else.”

Guilt sunk in the bottom of Dream’s chest and consumed him. “I am so… So sorry, George, you don’t deserve to have to deal with me.”

George rolled his eyes, “Enough with this whole ‘deserving’ crap. Nobody deserves anything, and I’m here cause I want to be here, and because I know who you are, Dream.”

Miraculously, a small, fragile smile appeared on Dream’s features, and he looked down away from George’s intense stare. Clearly worn out from a lifetime’s worth of arguing, he was contented to be moved around like putty and comforted by George, who had a seemingly endless supply of patience and love for Dream.

George maneuvered the two of them so that they were leaning against the back wall, seeing it was difficult to become comfortable in the cell because of the uneven and hard obsidian rock that encased them. The brunette wrapped the small blanket as tightly as he could around Dream, though it, as expected, only managed to encase his shoulders and neck. Dream became tangled in George, with his head buried into the crook of George’s neck and their legs completely linked together. George continued shushing into the fluffy blonde hair that was tickling his face, their words becoming meaningless and easy to pass between them.

_ I do have a home _ , Dream thought, as he felt his entire body growing heavy from the warm comfort of George surrounding him.  _ George… Wherever George is, I’m home _ .

When Sam lowered the lava hours later, believing that the two had somehow, against all odds, escaped, he found George and Dream curled up against one another in the corner of the cell, with the blue mushroom blanket abandoned for its original purpose to instead be cradled by Dream and pressed against his face, snoring gently, and being seen sleeping and without his mask for the first time since the very beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hkjsdnmjfjnvnlsd i hope that was ok ^^; please let me know your thoughts in the comments! Or if I should write more dreamnotfound! Cause this is my first time writing them, I'm usually a dreamnap writer haha, but I like this dynamic, too!


End file.
